The Grief Can Be As Pure As This
by ProfessionalMuse
Summary: This is my take on the thoughts of Charles Xavier regarding the apparent death of his son following Legion Quest. I originally wrote this over 12 years ago, but Marvel's recent return of Legion has plot bunnies dancing in my head. So I thought I would reopen my further misadventures of David Haller where it had all started for me, with this fic. I hope you like it.


Disclaimer: The characters mentioned within this work are the property f Marvel Comics. I neither own them, nor am I making a profit from them. The title of this piece comes from the poem "For A Child Born Dead" by Elizabeth Jennings. I don't own that either.

That Grief Can Be As Pure As This

The wind stung where it brushed his face. Charles Xavier barely noticed. He was beyond feeling the chill of this early April morning, beyond even caring about it. Today, the only thing that mattered was a pounding ache in his chest as he read the bronze plaque at his feet.

DAVID CHARLES HALLER

YOU LEFT US TOO SOON

Gabrielle had chosen the inscription. She preferred it to the usual religious phrase, considering Charles was, nominally at least, a Christian while she was Jewish. David himself had only been to temple a handful of times anyway. Besides, that simple phrased somehow managed to sum up the boy's entire life.

Charles said nothing. He allowed Gaby to arrange the entire memorial for their son without speaking a word. What could he say? More important, what right did he have to say anything?

He didn't even know the boy existed until David was nineteen. By then, David already had so very many problems, too many for Charles to handle alone. And other things required his attention. Most of his focus was already firmly invested in the X-Men and New Mutants. Magneto was beginning to abandon his quest for violence. The Beyonder was approaching. Charles believed himself to be dying, with so much left to arrange before he did. Something had to give. That had turned out to be David. Charles spent a few days with him on Muir Isle, and then left the boy in Moria's care with the promise of a trip to the Xavier estate that summer. David was so ecstatic he couldn't stop smiling.

The vacation never came. Magneto was arrested and put on trial. Charles' condition deteriorated until every day brought an almost unending agony. Then Lilandra had come for him, promising a full recovery after a short visit to Corsair's medical bay. That "short visit" had lasted for months as they fled from Deathbird's spies. He returned home to find David under the dominion of the Shadow King. Defeating that monster cost Charles his son once more as David slipped into another vegetative state.

If only the boy had stayed that way. The pain of knowing David lay unresponsive in a hospital was nothing compared to the pain of telling Gabrielle their son was dead, consumed by his own power. The tears in her eyes would be the last image in Charles' mind this side of death.

Gaby refused to believe him then. After all, they had no body, no blood, and no real proof that David was dead. No, David had simply disappeared, she argued. He was missing. One day, when he was healed, he might return. Charles let the matter drop there, secretly praying she might be right.

Time trudged on, each day weighing more heavily on his hands than the last. Rogue and Bobby left on an unscheduled road-trip as Gambit languished in a coma. Sabertooth appeared to be recovering at first, only to turn, nearly killing Psylocke. Logan became increasingly more feral. The threat of Legacy swept across the world, claiming Moria as its first non-mutant victim. The FOH grew more powerful by the week.

Charles reacted to these items as expected, but it was just an automatic response. It no longer mattered if humans and mutants coexisted. The war might end, but Charles would be alone.

"_Why should a god be alone?"_ a small voice whispered. "_You should be worshipped. Followed. Feared. Obeyed._" Charles ignored it. Powers such as his were naturally coupled with tremendous temptation and he was accustomed to disregarding it.

The voice grew louder.

Then the blackouts began. Charles found that hours had passed by unnoticed as he sat alone in his study. He was just drifting off to sleep, he told himself. Catnaps were no real cause for concern. A new threat had appeared, the mysterious Onslaught. Now that was a far more pressing concern than unexpected dozing.

Clear memories ended there. From what Charles could recall and what little his students had been willing to tell him, he knew he'd suffered some sort of mental breakdown and become Onslaught. He almost succeeded in killing, not only the X-Men, but most of Manhattan as well. Coming back to himself, he'd found his powers were gone. It should have been a blessing, a chance to start a new life, a normal life.

It wasn't.

Valerie Cooper placed him in protective custody only hours after the last fire was contained. The government had turned him over to that creature, Bastion. For awhile, Charles thought he might truly go mad. He needed his powers desperately to stop this madman, but they remained out of reach. Bastion taunted him daily. And the worst part of his incarceration was the dreams-of David. His son needed him, was crying out to his father for help. Charles tried to reach out to the lad, to comfort David even if he couldn't stop the pain. He'd always wake up alone in his cell, his face wet with tears.

Eventually, Charles was freed and the X-Men came to take him home. They tried to rebuild their lives. But so much had changed. Gambit's mysterious past had been revealed, and the revelation nearly cost Remy his life. The original X-Men had relocated to Alaska during the Professor's absence. Kitty, Kurt and Peter were back at the mansion once more, but the distance between the youngest two of that trio was painful to see. And all of his students watched Charles just a little too closely. He pretended he didn't notice flinching whenever he became visibly frustrated. Still, it hurt to realize how terribly he'd frightened them, something he'd never intended to do. They were his children, after all. The only ones he'd ever have.

Magneto pushed the United Nations into granting him a mutant homeland, the island of Genosha. Charles hoped Magnus might prove him wrong and successfully achieve peace for their people at last. The news reports coming from that tiny nation didn't give that hope any real foundation. Widespread panic, looting, faction fighting faction, this followed in Magneto's wake.

When Gabrielle asked Charles to join her for lunch two weeks ago, Charles had thought they'd discuss this problem. Maybe together they could come up with some way to help their mutual friend.

But Charles had been wrong. Gaby hadn't wanted to discuss Magnus at all. She wanted to talk about David.

"It's been over a year," she'd said. "I've finally accepted that he isn't coming back."

The wine Charles had ordered with his meal tasted bitter then. He swallowed hard, forcing it past the knot in his throat. Gaby didn't notice.

"I know we can't actually bury him," she continued, toying with her salad. "But I have to do something."

"A memorial," Charles answered softly.

"Yes." Gaby placed both of her hands on top of his. "It's time, Charles. Let him go."

So he'd let her plan everything. She hadn't felt comfortable placing the marker in the Xavier family plot. David's final escapade left Israel out as an option. She chose Muir Isle instead, a place of significance for both herself and Charles. A place where, for far too brief a time, David had been happy.

It was such a small marker really, no larger than a shoe box. Yet it held Charles utterly transfixed. His mind refused to focus on anything but the way the weak spring sunlight glinted off the raised letters. He barely remembered Gaby sobbing as she walked away. Moria's repeated pleas for him to come in out of the chill were fainter still. The only thing that matter was that his son was dead, finally and truly dead.

That pain swallowed everything else.

A stone floated into his line of vision, gracefully landing atop the marker. He felt the gentle pressure of another person's hand on his shoulder.

"Charles, you cannot die with you child, no matter how you might wish to. Believe me, my friend. I know."

He turned towards the speaker. Startling blue eyes met his own. There was the most unexpected expression in those eyes. Sympathy.

Magneto glanced down and the brake on Charles' wheelchair unlocked. "Let's go inside," he said.

Mutely, Charles nodded.


End file.
